Flightless Bird
by Anyanka Jenkins
Summary: Bella is a nearly 19 year old college student on a downward spiral who one night meets Edward, 5th year college senior. There's something different about him that pulls her in. Damaged and frightened, Bella pushes Edward away. Can their relationship survive her past? Rated M for adult situations, underage drinking, drug use, and of course - lemons. Don't read unless you're over 18.
1. Chapter 1: Found You

**Disclaimer: Any and all Twilight characters belong to SM.**

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I wish I could remember the very first time we met. He says tom_a_to, I say tomat_o_ – perhaps it does not even matter. My mind swims back to the meeting that changed it all, that changed me, my life.

It was typical hot summer Thursday night in the desert. It was June, and the summer had overtaken what pitiful excuse we called _spring_ months before. Hailing from a small, southern town in the Mideast, I found myself preferring the intense heat of the desert to the dry, muggy heat weighed down by the thick layer of humidity. Personally, I prefer to _drink_ my water – not breathe it in.

My freshman year of college was coming to a close, a miserable one at that. But, if I really thought about it – wasn't everyone's freshman year miserable? Freshman 10 or 25 or whatever and all that? My brows furrowed as I sipped on my very legal, but illegal for _me_, drink.

A snicker escaped my lips. Who was I kidding? I had practically drunk my entire freshman year under the table – between the sorority parties, the nightmare ex-boyfriend, and – _no_, I would not think about it. Groaning, I pressed my fingers to my temples and attempted to massage the stress and building pressure away. Less than a year had passed since my high school graduation. In fact, I still had my graduation cords still proudly and carefully stored in a bright red tub I had purchased on clearance at Walmart after Christmas one year. What had been previously bright red and cheery, was now dulled and fading black marks identified the tub as mine.

A snort. I had been so proud of my high school accomplishments – performances, academic milestones including a full ride to college, and even extracurricular activities like Student Council and writing clubs. My senior year I had created a prevention program, even been featured in the newspaper which shockingly had _not_ made my parents happy. Even though high school had been a very different affair for me than the typical teenager, I loved my school, the few friends I had, and most of my teachers. Now, less than a year later – my few friends had scattered to various universities such as Boston or Reno and I had ventured to our local state university by myself. Well, correction – not entirely by myself.

My high school sweetheart – another snort – had also attended college in town. _Should have known he was no good when he elected to attend community college instead of the mild step up to state university._ Mid-snort, my alcohol burned my throat as I swallowed wrongly and I coughed and sputtered and looked around to make sure no one had seen my lack of composure. Not, of course, that anyone here would care.

The bar was one of two college friendly bars, and by college friendly I really mean – turned a blind eye to underage drinking. Across the street was the only competition for this place, Moose something or other – but it was a slightly further walk from campus and the dorms and therefor a slightly further distance to stumble and walk in the wee hours of the morning following a fun night of drinking. Or, perhaps not so fun – depending on how you viewed the situation.

University Club, as the bar was so aptly named, was just like any other club in the area. Smallish in square footage, the place easily crowded and filled to capacity over the weekends. The small club was always dark with windows painted black for privacy during both the day and night. To one side of the club was the "Under 21" area – not that it ever really mattered if one was 21 or not, only if they had cash in their hands to pay for drinks and tips. This area was lined with booths along the wall; patrons who sat in their faded, stiff seats could peer out onto Maryland Parkway and watch fellow students, meander down the street while sipping their drinks. In the center of the area was a makeshift stage, a karaoke machine, and a few mismatched pub style chairs and tables. While almost none of the chairs matched one another, even the booths for that matter, they all held the same frayed and worn down look about them.

The bar section – or "21 and Older" area, was a little more well kept. The bar itself remained fairly clean, the blonde wood always looked shiny with the pale gold trim that had rubbed off around the corners. The chairs were less frayed here, but still well used, and the small tables that lined the remaining windows always at least appeared neat with the chairs pushed in and surfaces wiped clean.

Way back, last August, when I began classes, I had no idea that this bar even existed. Back then, I would have been too afraid to even _dare_ attempt to drink in a bar. Of course, I was barely 18 years old then. Even though my parents were a quick drive across town, I somehow felt liberated and freed, able to make my own choices and mistakes. _Some choices._ Fours years since I had moved or more like fled, from my sleepy small town in the Bible Belt to this bustling oasis in the desert; three years I had slaved in school – my only sleep was the two hour bus ride each morning or during my lunch hour, I never had a real high-school experience and for what?

To drink it all away my first year in college.

Pathetic.

I was truly pathetic.

The girl behind the bar stole a peek at me as I nodded and signaled for my third drink of the night. As she poured my next shot of who knows what as long it got me drunk, I pulled my hands through my disheveled hair. It was already 10 PM and I had no clue if there were classes the next day. I was fairly certain that classes were still in session as the campus continued to bustle about each day. Perhaps it was finals week? I shrugged my shoulders; I could easily hang out in the quad the next morning and casually chat up one of my sorority sisters. Thoughtfully I turned the shot glass round between my two hands.

Ugh. My skin felt hot.

This was the downside to drinking and in the desert no less.

Drinking seemed to make my skin feel as if it were pulled too tight across my body. My hands had a tendency to swell, and the intense dry heat did not help the situation. _After this one I'm headed out. _

I did not know where I was headed to – probably another night spent sleeping in my car, but I'd figure something out. Quickly, I tossed the scalding liquid back and with a grimace swallowed it down. Although I despised the taste of alcohol, I craved the numbness that came with it. Deftly, I threw down some bills and grabbed my purse from the space next to me. On unsteady feet I headed towards the karaoke section to see if I knew anyone to say goodbye to before heading out.

That's when I saw him. My mind whispered that we had met before and I chewed my lip as I searched my memories for him.

Seated in a faded red leather booth was a boy – no too old to be described as a boy, I was sure I had met on campus before. His hair was a brownish red color and looked wild, as if he had spent the evening studying and running his hands through the nest atop his head. A blue and green plaid button up short sleeve top hung from his obviously well toned torso; the muscles of his upper arm flexed as he leaned forward on his elbows. One dark jean clad leg bobbed up and down most likely in restlessness, as he scrolled through his phone. His skin had a faint tint to it, not the kind a person with olive skin has after time spent in the sun, but with the pale pink undertones I surmised he easily burned and this was as close as he came to a tan.

Even still, he looked good enough to eat.

Oddly, I felt drawn to him.

Currently, I hated all men. I had reached the conclusion they were all pigs.

"Excuse me," came a friendly voice behind me. The voice belonged to an older male student with russet colored skin and thick black hair. He was carrying two Coronas, one with a sliced lime pushed down the throat of the bottle. A light gray t-shirt that read _Epsilon Sigma_ on it identified him as a member of one of the twelve campus fraternities, his khaki cargo shorts complemented his dark skin, and nondescript tennis shoes seemed to fade into the dark floor below us. A memory sparked and I remembered the hottie I had been eyeing and this guy next to me were fraternity brothers. Yet, try as I might, I could not remember either of their names.

"Oh sorry," I only slightly slurred. Quickly, before he could escape I added, "Do you know him?" and inclined my head towards sex hair in the booth.

The guy grinned, "Sure."

_Okay, I see you're not much for explaining._

Was I going to have to drag it out of him?

"What's his name?" I asked, slightly irritated despite my buzzed state.

The guy looked quizzically between the booth and me, and after some consideration decided to answer me, "Edward. What's your name?"

_Edward._

A memory flashed then. Only a few short months prior, when the short winter had lifted and the sun shone warmly – but not hotly down in the valley. I had walked with a group of my sorority sisters and a bunch of guys they were going to lunch with, a group of Epsilon Sigmas, to Hawaiian Kitchen for lunch. Ugh. I also remember not enjoying the food.

_Focus._

Edward had been there, in fact we had hung back from the crowd and taken a few shy moments to talk. A giggled bubbled up from my lips as I remembered the first thing I said to him, "You remind me of a certain asshole I know."

He had laughed then, a rich velvet sound, and had tightened all the muscles in my belly. My then boyfriend – _bastard_ – had noticed my absence from the group and came looking for me then.

I grinned – a genuine and sincere gesture, as happiness for the first time in a long time, seeped through my limbs, "Bella."

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**A/N:** So if you're following _Ginnungagap_, let me take this moment to assure you I have not taken a break from that story. In fact, I was working on Chapter 14 just a few hours ago. ;-) However, I was laying in bed tonight trying desperately to fall asleep and this story just kept running through my mind.

In so many _Twifics_, Bella and Edward are these incredible people - millionaires, CEOs, movie stars, writers, singers, etc. But what if they were both college students who met one another one summer night? What starts as a summer fling quickly evolves into something else and before she realizes it, Bella is developing feelings for Edward she is sure will damage her beyond repair. If you're interested in reading more, let me know. Hopefully, now that I've written a chapter I've conquered at least _some_ of those many miles and can now get some sleep. ;-)

Can anyone guess the college they are attending? Or where they live? Did anything stand out to you from the chapter? I apologize for the short chapter, but they'll get longer.


	2. Chapter 2: Bids

**Disclaimer: Any Twilight characters all belong to SM. The rest is mine. :)**

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The dark haired boy merely tipped his head towards me and continued towards his friend. Towards _Edward_. I chewed on my lower lip as I considered approaching them. As he sat, Edward looked up from his phone; his brow was scrunched in worry or perhaps frustration. Yet, when he noticed the friend seated across from him, his face broke out in a beautiful, wide grin.

I could feel my body tingle in response.

I scowled.

_Get a grip._ I reprimanded myself and turned away from the happy, carefree scene before me. Suddenly, wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"Bella!" a distinctly female voice called and I leaned towards the side to peer back towards the bar. There, seated at the furthest end of the long wooden plank were two of my sorority sisters, Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory. Jess was a heavyset girl, a few years older than me, with brown hair and an unfortunate wide forehead that gave her a receding hairline appearance. Her best friend, Lauren, was also slightly heavyset, but not what most would call _fat_, with brown hair and twinkling gray eyes. For reasons unknown, these two older girls, Juniors in college, had taken me under their wing. Despite being a terrible pledge – _er, new member_, I corrected myself – they seemed to genuinely enjoy my company.

And while I could not find it in myself to fully reciprocate their friendship through things like joining them at the movies, sleepovers, lunch dates, and the like – I could certainly join them at the bar. As I stepped towards them, waiving in reply, I felt slightly woozy and decided I'd had enough alcohol to drink for one night. I sidled up to the high bar chairs and greeted them in fake cheerfulness, then ordered a Coke. The girl behind the bar, whose name I could never recall, grinned at me and slid a cold coke in front of my crossed arms. I grinned my thanks to her and dug in my pockets for the money to pay her. My fist retrieved a twenty, some fives, and a few singles. _Ugh._ Thankfully, payday was fast approaching and my funds would be replenished, although I noted with a shudder I had not checked my checking account balance lately and could only pray it was at least a positive one.

"So," Jessica began, flipping her thinning brown mane over her shoulder and eying me with rapt attention, "I saw you talking with Jacob. What's going on with that?"

My brow arched quizzically as I recalled whom I had been speaking with this evening. For the most part, I had sat alone at the bar watching the few students walk about, laugh, and a few bad karaoke performances. There were no Jacobs that came to mind – unless the dark haired boy was this Jacob they questioned me about.

I nodded my head towards the booth where the guys sat, now deep in conversation with their bodies leaning towards one another, and asked, "Is that Jacob?"

They nodded and guffawed at my ignorance. "Well then, yes, I spoke with him."

I had been told that I had a very outgoing personality – was quite the social butterfly even. Perhaps this was why two different sororities had offered me bids to join their sisterhood last fall, and due to my own perceptions of self, I went with the Iota Epsilon group. Idly, my mind wandered back to the fall rush where I had met Jessica and Lauren, my now absent big sister Angela, and of course fraternity boys.

Fall rush occurred only a few weeks after classes began, this gave ample time for new students to wander about the Moyer Student Union or MSU, eat lunch, and walk through the tables that littered both the interior of the building – each crammed almost on top of one another, and the brilliant warmth outside in the sprawling court and sunken mini amphitheater. Classes began on the heels of a terrible summer, the second worst since – _no, stop that._ I had been lonely, with my best friend Golda having decided to attend the northern university with her live in boyfriend and my on again/off again relationship with my high school boyfriend, Paul.

At the time sessions began, we were in the off again portion of our relationship. That man was toxic and I wanted to hate him with every fiber in my body. Yet, after the summer we had shared, I felt this overwhelming need to break away from something, even though I could place my finger on what exactly. So, I took to the salon and decided a change was in order. When I entered the salon, my tanned skin glowed from the sun, my dark brown almost black eyes wide, and my long, thick hair fell into soft waves to the small of my back. My parents always complimented me that I had grown into a beautiful young lady – of course that had been before that terrible summer.

Now, we didn't really talk. Over the course of the past nine months, my things had shuffled first to Paul's house – or rather his parents house where he still lived, then to my friends Seth, Ringo, and Jeremy's place, and then returned to my parents' home. My room sat fairly empty and unused, well as empty as could be expected. When I did drive home, it was always in the middle of the night. I'd sleep in my old bed, shower early in the morning as if I were getting ready for class, then refill my frayed duffel bag with my high school named faded on the front. When I was very lucky, I would be able to do a few loads of laundry at a friends' place, not that I really had that many friends even in a sorority, and when I was unlucky, I would shuffle off to a laundry mat and do my laundry there. Although, the laundry mat was not so bad, it was old and worn down, like so many buildings and establishments in this area of town, but it was quiet and fairly clean and I was always able to enjoy a book while I waited.

When I exited the salon that day, gone were the long tresses from high school and in their place was a short haircut. My hair was thick and slightly unruly, which is why I had always worn it long. With as many cowlicks as I possessed, short hair was difficult at best but usually impossible. Of course, my mom hated the haircut, a fact she did not mind sharing with me – over and over again.

Amidst the many girls all vying to enter one of the sororities on campus, I had felt odd and strangely out of place. Some of the others had short haircuts, but none were spiked at the tips like mine were; many of the girls were tall and lean like supermodels – or I supposed, how sorority girls were supposed to look. Rush was several days long, giving each of the potentials an opportunity to mingle with the various groups on campus.

There were five total houses to consider joining including Sigma Kappa, Alpha Delta Pi, Alpha Gamma Delta, Iota Epsilon, and the beautiful Delta Zetas. Each group was obviously different than the others.

On the first day of rush, the potentials were divided into groups and visited all five sororities – at the end of that day we each listed four sororities we were interested in. The second day, we spent longer amounts of time with these four groups and then at the end of the day repeated the list making process. This left us with three sororities, who we would spend the most time with before making a decision as to which sorority we wanted to pledge. The Sigma Kappas struck me as outdoors kind of girls, they each seemed relaxed, little makeup – but friendly. The members of AGD were remarkably intelligent and carried impressive GPA based academic awards to support the assumptions I made; they were lithe and lean and like the Sigma Kappas before them, seemed to be more athletic. In contrast, the ADPs seemed friendly – perhaps a bit overly so, but more normal and down to earth than the other groups. There was something about them though that I felt ill at ease with and was glad when I marked ADP from my lists. On the third, and final day of rush, I visited with the Delta Zetas, Iota Epsilon, and Alpha Gamma Delta. As the day drew to a close, and I sat amidst the other potentials in a sea of voices as they each squealed and sighed over their ballot cards, I considered my options.

I really liked the girls of Delta Zeta, they were honestly my favorite, but they were all beautiful – tall and slender and looked as if they were made for the runway. Rosalie, a beautiful blond with expressive eyes, really captured my attention. She was sweet and we became instant friends over the past three days. Most of all, I wanted to consider her my sister. Then there were the Iota Epsilon girls, it was a new sorority on campus less than two years old, and very successful. The girls were all average looking, with a few more beautiful among them. Like the Sigma Kappas before them, they seemed overall relaxed and friendly.

_And more in your league, _I mentally added.

I chewed the end of my pencil thoughtfully as I weighed my options and decided to mark Iota Epsilon as my first choice and Delta Zeta as my second, leaving of course AGD as my third by default. The following day, throngs of excited college girls seemed to engulf the student union. Located on the second, less populated floor, were the Panhellenic Council – the group that governed the sororities – table. There were five tables scattered throughout the yawning second floor, each carried boxes that covered last names from A-C and so forth. Scanning the room, I found the table with S-T last names over by the computer lounge. My legs felt like jelly as I nervously walked towards the looming table.

"Bella!" I turned towards the voice and recognized Skylar Thomas, a girl who had been assigned to my potential group. She was tall, obviously athletic with well toned arms and legs, and had blondish brown hair that fell stick straight to her shoulders. We had stayed together until the last day, in which she visited ADP, AGD, and SK. With almost too much enthusiasm, she reached for my hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze, "Let's go see together!" she squealed her blue eyes sparkling, and I nodded my head in agreement.

Together, we practically skipped towards the table, well rather – Skylar skipped and tugged and my legs reluctantly shuffled along. A girl sat at the table and smiled brightly up at me, "Names?" she inquired.

Skylar spoke up again, "Thomas Skylar," her bubbly voice exclaimed, then pointing towards me, "Swan Bella."

With a curt nod, the girl shuffled through the stacks until she retrieved both Skylar and my cards. "Congratulations!" she beamed up at us.

Congratulations? Wasn't everyone who went through rush offered a bid? Unknowingly I had spoken my question aloud. The girl frowned and shook her head, "No, if the potential's choices and the house choices do not align, then no bid is offered."

As if to prove her point, I heard wailing to the far right of me. My eyes scanned the room and I saw a group of girls huddled together, with the one in the middle crying. I spotted a white envelope, probably identical to mine in each of the groups' hands except the wailing girl in the middle. I cringed and began to walk away from the table. "Oh! Bella!" the girl at the table cried out.

I turned in acknowledgement. She waived another envelope in the air towards me, "Looks like you received two bids."

_Two bids?_

I had never heard of such a thing. Of course, I also had never rushed a sorority before either. Stiffly, I took the envelope and muttered, "thanks" while my cheeks flamed in embarrassment. Skylar waited patiently for me off to the side and I ambled my way over to her.

"Let's open them together!" she suggested. Her enthusiasm was catching and I agreed. Together we pulled the simple white envelopes open and held our breaths.

She screamed first, her cries of excitement bounced over the walls of the union and were lost in the abyss of screams and squeals throughout the second floor. "Sigma Kappa!" she cried, practically jumping up and down.

My own eyes scanned the card in my shaking hands – it was an invitation from Delta Zeta. I frowned. Why on Earth would they invite me to join them? They were beautiful and I was – well me. Hardly worth noticing. I opened the second envelope and with shaking hands, roughly withdrew the card. The other invitation was from Iota Epsilon.

Skylar was peering over my shoulder, viewing the two bid invitations in my shaking hands. "So, which house will you choose?" she asked.

Torn.

I was so torn. I wanted to join Rosalie's house and become her sister, but I felt the Iota Epsilon house was more my league. Taking my silence as an answer rather than a sign of confusion, Skylar looped her arm through my own and began leading me downstairs. Outside the MSU were throngs of houses, each in wait for their newest members to come join their ranks. Each time a new member ran through the doors, screamed, and ran towards her new sisters, there was an echoing reply of screams and "congratulations" that rang out.

With a tight hug, Skylar whispered in my ear, "Congratulations!" and then skipped off towards the awaiting group of Sigma Kappas. Of course, she screamed and they screamed and there was hugging and maybe even crying.

I scoffed.

Crying over people you hardly knew.

Across the yard were the Iota Epsilons and Delta Zetas, separated only by the long green way. My head turned from side to side, and I noticed an over enthused Rosalie waiving at me from her group. Her smile beckoned me and I longed to walk towards her. Yet, I knew I did not belong among the beautiful sisterhood, and with a sad smile walked towards the house of Iota Epsilon. Quickly, I stuffed the DZ bid into the back pocket of my jeans and waived theirs in the air as I approached.

Of course, I was greeted with several screams of excitement and several rounds of hugs. This is not where I wanted to be, but it was where I felt I fit in most.

"Bella?" Jessica's voice brought me back to reality as I looked into her expectant face. Suddenly, I could not recall what we had been discussing.

I blushed.

"Sorry guys, I guess I zoned out there. I'm kind of tired," I lied easily.

They nodded in understanding. "We're getting ready to head to the Kappa house for a party, wanna come?"

Carefully I composed my face into an apologetic mask, "No, thank you for the invite though. I'm gonna finish my Coke and then head home. Summerlin is a far drive this time of night," I explained lamely. They nodded, paid their bill, and each offered me a quick hug before their departure.

They didn't need to know that I would not be heading home, or was even sure where I'd be sleeping tonight. I sighed and sipped on my coke again.

"Bella?" a voice called and I turned quickly in response.

I had expected Jess or Lauren, perhaps they had forgotten something or really wanted to just drag me to the party. But it was neither that stood before, but rather the handsome figure of Edward.

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**A/N: Okay, so we learn a little more about Bella, but obviously she's keeping some secrets. Any guesses as to what's going on or what's going to happen? I was really touched by everyone who added _Flightless Bird_ to their favorites or followed the story. Thank you so much! I would love to hear your feedback. :)**

**As I mentioned before, I'm getting this story out of my head and still working on Ginnungagap, so if you haven't tried it out, please click on my profile and give it a try. :) Also, I just stumbled across a great Edward/Bella fanfic and wanted to recommend it. It's an older story (written a few years ago) but very good. It's called Sins of the Piano Man by solareclipse and you should totally check it out.**

**That's it for me! I'll try to do one more update tomorrow before I head back to work.  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Galleries and Earth Day

**Disclaimer: Typical rules apply - if it walks like a Twilight character, talks like a Twilight character - then it's probably a Twilight character and belongs to SM. The rest is all mine. :)**

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Edward stood in front of me, in his hands was a half drunk Corona, and the lime I noticed earlier was floating and bobbing in the amber liquid. He was obviously cocky; a lopsided grin adorned his face, his body obviously relaxed. "Bella, right?"

"Uh," I managed to mutter. _Smooth, real smooth,_ I internally berated myself. "Yes," I finally managed to answer.

His eyes danced with laughter, lips twitched with amusement, and he nodded to the empty seat next to me, "May I?" he asked.

Still somewhat dumbstruck, it took me a moment to find my voice and answer, "Sure." Inwardly, I groaned – the man would surely think I was an idiot who obviously had trouble with even one-word answers. Fluidly he sank into bar stool next to my own and swiveled the chair to face me. "My buddy Jake said you were looking for me, and I thought maybe I should come say hello. Hello," his voice seemed to caress each syllable as he pronounced it, his beautiful lips hugged each word as they escaped.

"Hello," I stammered in reply.

"So Bella, how long have you been at UNLV?" His gorgeous eyes seemed to drink me in and it took a moment before I could reply.

_God, he is a beautiful man._

I shook myself and forced myself not to act like an idiot. "Just a year," I answered and stirred my Coke with the straw. "Have I seen you around before?" I asked innocently.

He laughed, a beautiful sound – thick and sincere. "Sure, sure. Your sisters and my brothers hang out a lot, plus I've bumped into you around campus a few times." Another swig of his beer and he continued, "You were at the art show a few months back, remember? I think with your brother?"

I cringed. Ugh. I hated that. Paul was certainly _not_ my brother – not by a long shot. However, we both shared olive complexions, dark hair and eyes, and sometimes people did mistake us for siblings. My stomach rolled at the thought.

I did remember the night he referenced – the night of the art show. Paul and I were in our "on again" stage and he had dragged me along to the art department's show. My brain struggled to remember why he wanted to go so badly, none of his own pieces – juvenile as they were talented – were being displayed, but he was persistent about attending. Exasperated, I agreed to attend and walk through the various buildings to view the art located near Ham Hall. It was January, a new semester and one of the few months the desert escaped from the heat and was overtaken by the chill of winter. It was cold, very cold, and I had bundled up inside my thick jacket. We had ambled through the various halls, he had pointed out the work of his classmates and shared the stories behind the drawings, and begrudgingly I had to admit there were some talented artists at school.

I cringed again as I remembered the night – could I sound any more like a bitch? My relationship had been so drastically hot or cold that it really spilled over into any and all interactions associated with him. I _hated_ his fraternity, the Pi Kappa Alphas, even though my own little brother was a Pike – well before he quit. Further, I hated the art department just because he was in it. The anger that bubbled in the pit of my stomach made me feel incredibly immature, but regardless – I still loathed anything associated with Paul.

"Er, yes. I was there." I explained, skipping over the whole "brother" part. Edward was nothing if he was not persistent, and apparently he wanted to rut out the truth about the oh so mysterious guy I was paired up with that night.

"So is that your brother? I remember him from rush, he came to some of our events but I heard he ended up pledging the Pikes?"

_Geez, leave it alone already._

"No, he wasn't my brother." My mind chanted over and over, _please let it go. _

Of course he didn't.

"So a friend?"

"No," was my clipped reply. A memory stirred and I suddenly did remember running into Edward at the art show – with a beautiful blonde on his arm. She had been petite, but all smiles and cheerfulness. As the muddied images cleared in my mind, I recalled it was Edward who had approached us.

Paul and I were walking between Art Hall I and Art Hall II when I heard a voice calling my name behind me, "Bella!" The voice did not sound familiar, but I turned in spite of myself.

A handsome guy adorned with a beautiful blonde attached to his arm was rapidly approaching. Their breath came out in white hazy puffs in the cold night air. I smiled and waived to the couple – they certainly looked familiar but I couldn't place them. The boy was taller with brownish red hair tousled as if he had just risen from bed; he wore a thick scarf about his neck, and a thick grey jacket. Dark jeans with faded sneakers completed the look. At his side, was a petite blonde with a wide smile on her lips, her long golden hair fell past her shoulders and bounced with each step she took. Like Rosalie, she looked ready for the runway, dressed in a purple pea coat and cinched at the waist, she also wore dark jeans though hers fit like a second skin while his seemed to hang just right – not tight but not baggy either. Her face was perfectly made up and her bright eyes seemed to glint and glitter with happiness that radiated from within. As the couple drew closer, I could see that the boy was not really a boy, neither was he a man yet, but somewhere in between and the girl at his side the same age – obviously older than myself but neither a woman either.

"Who was the blonde with you?" I blurted out.

"Oh, that was Tanya, my girlfriend."

_Dammit, the good ones are always taken._

I pretended to scout around, as if to look for the aforementioned girlfriend. "Where is she? She seemed kind of nice," I lied. Honestly, I barely remembered her, but was now insanely curious.

He blushed and looked down, "We, er – broke up a few months ago."

_Oh._ _Well that means he's single. _

"Oh," I answered.

Another swig from his beer and he was back to the questions again, "So is Peter your big brother?" I chewed on my lip for a moment in consideration. Peter was my newly assigned "big brother" in the Greek system. He was bit odd, had several food allergies – except of course alcohol, he was allergic to wheat which meant no beer, but seemed perfectly able to consume copious amounts of hard liquor. Peter was a lot of fun though, and had been there for me throughout the off and on again stages of my relationship with Paul. During a particularly messy and emotional breakup, the most recent one in fact, he had talked to me the whole night until I fell asleep and then called early the next afternoon to see how I was doing. He was my Denny's partner in crime and always seemed up to hitting up the all night dinner for pancakes and coffee anytime I requested. So far, he was a pretty great friend.

"Yeah, he is – " and my train of thought was suddenly interrupted as I remembered that only a few short weeks ago, I had given Peter _and_ his fraternity brother, Edward a short lift to an apartment. My mouth gaped open, "Hey, didn't I give you a ride a couple of weeks ago?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I never got to properly thank you. My apartment was within walking distance, but after spending all day in the sun, I was pretty beat. So, let me thank you and buy you a drink." With a waive of his arm, he motioned for the bartender to come over to us. He ordered himself another Corona and then inclined his head towards me in question.

"I'll have a Coke, thanks."

Questions danced in his eyes as we waited for our drinks. "Do you not drink?" he asked.

"Uh, sure. But I've already had two and its time for me to sober up. Eventually, I have to drive home." I shrugged. As we waited for our drinks, I dug around in my purse for my Camels, when I found them; I pulled the stiff box out and retrieved a cigarette. Emerald eyes watched me as I lit up and inhaled deeply, enjoying the burn in my throat. As an after thought, I inclined the box towards him in offering, "Want one?"

Another laugh, "Nah, thanks though."

"Hmmm, so it seems like we've been running into each other quite a bit. The art show, Earth day, and at the Hawaiian Kitchen, am I forgetting anything?" I asked with a slight chuckle to mask my nervousness.

"Hmmm, well there was also rush. When you brought your friend along to Cooney Island over at New York New York." His hands wrapped idly around the body of the beer and he swished the beer around.

Memories flooded my mind as I struggled to recall the fraternity rush events. I had just been getting back into the swing of all things Greek and Jess and Lauren were dragging me all around to various rush events. The frat version of gathering potential pledges was very different than the sorority version, and the spring semester rush was always less formal than the fall. I narrowed my eyes in thought as I recalled each event we attended, there was the party at the Lambda house and I giggled as I recalled the stadium seating they had engineered. In my Philosophy class, I was grouped with a Lambda guy who had invited me and any sisters I wanted to bring along to their party, when I had entered the party I scanned the room for him but instead found myself gawking at the old, raggedy couch teetering several feet off the ground by two kegs on each end. Delta Chi had held an event at one of the local bowling alleys that offered midnight cosmic bowling, and of course I attended the Pike events, which were muddied and hazy in my mind. _Probably due to all the Jell-O shots and beers you had there._ I shrugged my shoulders casually, "I don't remember an event at Cooney Island, but the girls and I went party hopping a lot during the rush events. I hope I was mildly interesting," I teased.

"Well, there were a lot of people there. It's always our most popular event." He shrugged in return and took another chug of his drink.

"So, what's your major?"

_Brilliant conversation Bella, might as well talk about the weather next._

"Earth science," he shared. "Yours?"

"Political Science, I want to attend Boyd School of Law."

His eyes lit up, "Hey! That was my major too." He grinned again.

"Really? How'd you go from Poli Sci to Earth Science?" Our conversation easily flowed as he shared how he had attend American University in D.C. his freshman year as a Poli Sci major, but when he came home to attend UNLV his sophomore year, he found the program to be severely lacking. All majors required a science credit, so he took the plunge and enrolled in a Geology class to get it out of the way. By the end of the semester he had found his calling and images of Edward dressed as Indiana Jones with his own theme song swam in my head. We chatted about politics – both in the media and on campus, the Greek system, and our likes and dislikes for hours.

Yet we were both still surprised as we stifled yawns and looked down to our respective cell phones to find it was the early hours of the morning. "Want a ride home?" I offered, even though I now knew he only lived a few blocks down the road.

"Sure," he replied easily and we walked out towards the car. Entirely sober, I walked with ease to my newer silver Ford Focus and hopped in the seat. He directed me the all of maybe five minutes it took to arrive to his apartment. "Thanks Bella, I had a great time tonight," he paused and then reached in his pocket to withdraw a scrap of paper and retrieved the pen in the console between us. Quickly, he scribbled his number on the scrap of paper and handed it to me, "Here, give me a call sometime. I'd love to hang out again."

In the dark, cooling night, I blushed bright red. "Thanks," I replied, then realized I could easily give him my number as well. "Is your phone still alive?" I teased and he pulled the dark blue square from his pocket and handed it to me. I quickly programmed myself into his phone and echoed his own sentiment. Awkwardly, we said goodnight and I pulled away from his apartment.

Now alone I looked down to my gas tank, thankfully over halfway full but I wondered where I'd sleep for the night. The Pike house – egh, was only a few blocks in the other direction, my parents' house was about 45 minutes or maybe half an hour at this time of the night, and I didn't think Seth and Ringo would be welcoming me with open arms. The little light at the end of University Parkway finally turned green and called for my decision. With a sigh, I decided to brave my parents' house, if nothing else, it'd be a warm bed to sleep in, a hot shower, and maybe I could even sneak some laundry in. As I drove towards Summerlin, I felt my stomach drop in anticipation and dread.

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**A/N: Sorry for the late update, I was working hard on Chapter 14 and 15 for _Ginnungagap_ and lost track of the time. **

**So I have to share that Bella's party at the Lambda house is inspired by real life events. In my own Philosophy class I was assigned to a group that included a Lambda guy who invited me to my first ever frat party at the house. When I went to check things out, there really was a ripped up couch that looked like it had been saved from the sidewalk of some street balanced on old kegs. And they really did refer to it as their "stadium" seating. Hahaha.**

**Now, fair warning: just because we have Tanya, Peter, Jessica, Lauren, and even Paul and Jacob in the story does not automatically mean they will be just like their SM characters.  
**

**Big thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favorites or who have subscribed to _Flightless Bird_. If you're liking the story, let me know! Do you have any ideas on where Bella and Edward are? I gave away some more clues this chapter, and would love to see some guesses. :) **


	4. Chapter 4: Jobs

**Disclaimer: Any and all Twilight characters belong to SM.**

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The streets passed in a blur as the university bled into the dark background behind me. I turned left onto Flamingo Blvd and continued up the streets, past the bright lights of the sprawling Las Vegas Blvd. Ballys sat to my direct left, the beautiful Bellagio fountains adjacent, and Ceasar's Palace in front of me. Memories flooded through my mind as the minutes ticked by as I idled at the red light.

Ballys, an older hotel and casino in Las Vegas, was one of the first places I became familiar with. My family, then living in South Carolina, had planned their annual trip to the sunny, dry heat of this beautiful desert. It was the first night of our trip when my dad – for all intents and purposes, embarked on a leisurely stroll and invited me to tag along. The excitement of exploring this city of lights and wonders was almost too much for my 13-year-old mind to absorb, and with an eagerness that bordered on hyper, I slipped on my shoes and left the coolness of our room at the MGM Grand. We had boarded the at the time new monorail, which only consisted of two stops – MGM itself and its sister establishment, Ballys.

The monorail deposited passengers outside the casino, in an alcove nestled above the yawning entrance. Dad guided me towards the escalators and we rode them in silence as I took in the unfamiliar landscape. At the entrance of the hotel were archways of lights, dancing with colors, and surrounded on either side of the walkway with peaceful waters. As we walked through the awning, the hotels spread before us, the cars rushed by on the famous Las Vegas Blvd, and the chatter of people – talking and laughing met my young ears. I snorted – that summer was only five, almost six, years ago, and yet I felt aged beyond my short eighteen years on this Earth.

So lost in my memories, I was abruptly startled by the crass sound of a horn blaring behind me. I looked up to see the bright, friendly green light smiling down on me, and gingerly I pressed the gas pedal. The Strip, while beautiful and somewhat awe inspiring, was also dangerous and heavily patrolled with police at all hours of the day and night. I knew all too well this intersection was dangerous due to tourists, sober and drunk, who would dart across the road in spite of traffic. Looking both ways as I crossed through the junction, I sighed with relief that no tourists were headed my way. As I passed Caesar's Palace, I navigated into the far right lane, and eased my car onto the I-15.

Perhaps in other cities – places not always awake and bustling, the freeway would be empty as people slept in their beds and dreamed of what tomorrow would bring. In Vegas, people were just getting off work, or headed to work, and construction crews who like vampires sought refuge from the blistering heat of the sun, worked through the early hours of the morning to complete their work before the dawn approached. As I neared the Spaghetti Bowl, where the I-15 and US-95 met in the heart of the city, I could smell the distinct odor of tar and asphalt as the crews worked tirelessly to widen the narrow five-lane interstate. In the four years of my residence, I had observed such rapid growth, and with it all the normal pains of a booming city. Cars stopped and started as they crawled through the heavily crowded junction, and I cheered silently as I pulled onto the ramp for I95 North.

There was no construction or traffic as I cleared the convergence of vehicles and construction, and I pushed harder on the gas pedal. Landscape flew by in the night with each mile I conquered, the Meadows Mall seemed to blur sweetly on the edge of my vision, and fast approaching was Summerlin Parkway. The ramp jutted at a steep angle to arch up and over the 95 and then almost plummet down to the two lanes provided. Five short exits later, I was home – or at least, to my parents' home. I turned off the engine and sat in my warming car deep in thought.

Edward had seemed nice, the conversation flowed easily and I had found that we both agreed on several important political points. He came across as a gentleman, intelligent, and well spoken. Yet, I worried at how drawn I seemed to him. In the little experience I had – two serious boyfriends and a couple of non-serious ones, men were overall trouble. It was ironic though, given my perspective, that the number of male friends far outweighed the girlfriends in my life. Male friends were to be kept at arms' length so they couldn't betray or hurt me, but something inside me whispered that _he_ was different and that not only could I trust him, but I would be safe with him.

_Pffttt…. Not likely._

With a sigh, I gathered my faded duffle bag, purse, and my water bottle and shuffled up the sidewalk to the front door. My parents had purchased this house only two years ago, the warm caramel colored stucco that was so common in the desert, was trimmed in a dark cocoa color that contrasted nicely. The front yard had a small patch of grass with a little tree, and a riverbed of smooth stones. Leading to the walkway were two waist high pillars with a pale bone colored stucco, and a black iron gate that opened to the walkway to the front porch. The porch itself was smallish, as so many porches out here were; gone were the long, wide porches of the South. Images of rocking chairs and tables came to mind as I recalled the oversized front porch from my childhood home.

My childhood home had been an early 20th century schoolhouse converted into a house; technically it was one story, but had a downstairs den where the broiler room had been, and a large over sized garage where the gym had existed. This house stood in contrast – new where our South Carolina home had been old, two stories compared to the one, and much smaller bedrooms. But the home was nice, modern, and had a comfortable feel. As I stepped through the door and into the foyer, I could make out the formal sitting room that was open to the also formal dining room; to my left were the guest bedroom and the great room family area with the breakfast nook and open kitchen. Nestled between the formal areas and the guest room was an extra wide staircase that led to the master bedroom, loft, and two spare bedrooms. My bedroom lay at the end of that hall, just beyond the loft.

Quietly, I tiptoed up the stairs, past my parents' room, and into the relative comfort of my own four walls. When the door clicked into place, I breathed a sigh of relief and began to peel away the red dress I had randomly selected for the evening and kicked off my sandals. In the darkness, I fumbled for the lip of my dresser, tugged the drawer open and retrieved what felt like a tank top and sleep shorts. Dressing quickly, I kicked my dress to the closet and took one last look around the room. Exhausted, I finally slipped beneath the cool covers and allowed sleep to take me.

The sun leaked too bright through the wooden blinds; I moaned and turned over stuffing a pillow over my head.

_Too early._

Squinting I peeked from the feathery softness to peer at the red illuminated digital clock on my white oak nightstand. _Ugh._ Already ten in the morning and I knew there would be no hope of sneaking back out of the house or using the excuse that class would be starting soon. My mind scrambled to consider my schedule for the day – I had a night shift at work, but otherwise had the day free.

Thick, swollen hands fumbled and reached for the cell phone that should be charging right behind the clock. My fingers found the thick device and yanked it towards my line of sight.

_Should I call Edward? See what he has planned today?_

The voicemail icon blinked rapidly on my gray home screen alerting me to a new message. I pulled the phone to my ear and listened carefully, "Hey babe, it's Paul, was just wondering what your plans were today. Let me know if you want to meet at Moose's for lunch."

Delete.

Fucking Paul.

The next voicemail started, "Hey Bella, it's Laurent, I wanted to see if you were still available for those pictures we talked about. How does 2 PM work for you? Let me know."

Delete.

Last message was from an unknown number and was from just an hour previous, "Hey Bella, it's Edward. I had a great time hanging out with you last night. Let me know if you want to meet for lunch or something. And just in case you lost my number," he laughed, "it's 702-555-7399."

Without thinking, I saved the message and then programmed the number into my phone. My stomach growled loudly and I could not recall when my last meal had been. Quickly, I gathered some clean clothes and walked into my Jack and Jill bathroom. Though the spare room was empty, I locked both doors and then turned the shower to the hottest setting. Steam filled the room quickly and I inhaled the moist air. I stepped beneath the thick streams of water and allowed the heat to relax my tense muscles, then lost myself to the mindless chore of bathing.

I showered and dressed quickly, applied a little makeup, and quickly brushed and dried my damp hair. In the mirror, I scrutinized my almost shoulder length hair that fell in soft waves. Over the past nine months, my hair had grown out from the short, spiky do and was now thankfully past the awkward "I'm growing my hair out" phase. As I examined my mirror image, I could not help but notice the dark shadows under my eyes and I dabbed again with a concealer that promised to "brighten and refresh" my complexion. Outside the purplish bruises beneath my dark eyes, my complexion was flawless – a tanned olive color with a straight petite nose in the center, a lower lip that was fuller than the top, and a heart shaped face. My body was soft – not toned or lean like an athlete, but still slim and my clothes fell nicely on the gentle swells, dips, and curves of my body.

_Sooner or later you have to face her. Get dressed, eat something, pack a bag, and get out._

I tugged faded, cropped jeans over my hip hugging panties and a bright pink tank top with a scooped neckline. The mirror me smiled widely back, but it did not reach her eyes. The hazy reflection, that seemed to swirl as the mist from the steam dripped from the mirror, scowled in reaction.

The door opened wide and I returned to my room. Searching about the room, I found another week's worth of clothes, including a few work uniforms, socks, work shoes, and my toothbrush.

Inhaling deeply, I worked up the courage to walk downstairs and grab some breakfast. In the distance, I could hear the faint hum and buzz of the television and knew I'd have to face her sooner or later. The strap of the bag looped easily over my shoulder, I grabbed my purse, gave my room one last forlorn look, and shuffled down the hall and stairs to the kitchen.

The sun lit the room and the gentle _swooshing_ of the ceiling fan provided a light breeze to waft throughout the room. Determined, I plastered a wide – albeit fake, grin across my face and deposited my things at the foot of the stairs. Nonchalantly I meandered through the short hall and into the living room and kitchen.

The couches that traveled all the way from South Carolina were a dark blue and purple with a flowered pattern on them. Thanks to mom's meticulous care, even though they were several years old, they still stood firm with no traces of sagging. Mom sat on the loveseat, breakfast at her side, her ever-present oversized cup filled with ice cold 7-up next to her plate on the end table. Her legs were tucked under her and she was apparently watching _Judge Judy._ Idly, I wondered if she even noticed my appearance, but was abruptly met with, "Morning Bella."

"Morning Mom," I replied and continued my shuffle towards the pantry. I prepared a bowl of cereal and sat at the often-ignored kitchen table. Quickly, I inhaled my food so as not to prolong the uncomfortable silence I often met. My actions were blurry, as if someone else completed them, as I finished my food, cleaned my dishes, and awkwardly stood to go. "Well, gotta head out. See ya," I waived goodbye.

"Mmmhhmm," she replied.

And with that, I left the house and walked to my car.

_Decisions, decisions._

The clock now informed me it was almost noon and I realized it had taken me much longer than I initially thought to get out of the house. Laurent wanted to meet in about two hours, Edward had hoped to have lunch together, and Paul apparently just wanted to hang out. _Yeah right, what he meant was he didn't have any other dates and wanted to hook up. _Again, I scowled and my mother's voice broke through my mind reminding me that my face could get stuck like that.

Hanging out, or hooking up, with Paul was defiantly out, and while I wanted – almost too much for someone I had just met or well, rather gotten to know better – to hang out with Edward, I decided that I should give that front a little more time to develop before running off to meet him just because he called. Laurent it was.

My car started easily and pulled out onto the road to head towards the Desert Inn area he lived in. Thoughtfully, I chewed my lip as I drove.

Laurent had started out as a co-worker at my second job outside of high school, at thirty-five he was almost twice my age, but had seemed like a nice guy. When the tech company we worked for went under and we had to find separate jobs – I went to work for Victoria's Secret in their makeup department, and he had gotten a job with another contractor, we had kept in touch. Despite the age difference, we had hung out a few times before it became glaringly apparent that he _liked_ me in a more romantic way. In an attempt to put some distance between us, I had listed classes and my sorority activities as reasons to not hang out. However, in the year we had known each other, he easily saw through my lies and had yet to confront me. It was always in his tone of voice when I dismissed his requests to hang out that told me he knew I was untruthful.

About a month ago – during the start of the "off again" phase for Paul and I, the relationship between Laurent and myself shifted. It went from one of friendship with the romantic feelings held at bay, to a business one. In need of a bed to crash in, a shower, and some food in my stomach I had finally relented and came to hang out at his place. He made drinks for us and we hung out at the pool in his backyard; of course this required swim attire – a green checkered string bikini to be exact. I could feel his eyes drinking me in as I lied on the reclining chair and absorbed the warm sun into my body. What he had said next had taken me completely off guard, "Have you ever thought about doing nude pictures?"

My drink had sputtered and caught in my throat, burning its way down my windpipes. "What?" I stuttered as I tried to breathe in without coughing.

He nodded towards me, as if his reasoning was obvious, "I have connections you know, people who run websites. You could make good money – _easy money_," he clarified, "just by taking some pictures."

That conversation had been eating away at me ever since. Although I was gainfully employed at the time, full time hours and all the perks that went with it, I hated my job. Well, perhaps not the job itself – but the people I worked with. My manager was a dictator, someone I was loath to work with, and two of my other co-workers were from the Greek system. There was Jamie, not only my sorority sister but also my pledge, er new member sister. She was beautiful and looked exactly like a sorority girl should with a tall body, all sinew and lean lines, yet somehow unfairly blessed with a large bust and golden hair with brown undertones that fell past her shoulder blades. Big expressive eyes dominated her slightly round face, with a full, even pout that grew animated whenever she talked. Her boyfriend, a Pike, also worked with me, and while it was funny in the beginning – he was actually quite good at what he did. Women seemed to flock to Mike, whether it was his good looks or his charm, and he was shockingly the top sales person in the store. Mike was a painful reminder of the drama that had ensued after Paul transferred from community college to UNLV and pledged the Pikes, and shamefaced I tried my best to avoid him. Shockingly, though, Mike held no ill will towards me and was friendly regardless of all the water under the bridge, or over the bridge between myself and the fraternity; although he did admit that matters were not helped that one of the brothers – Tyler, bragged that I slept with him during the pledges' hell week. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment at the memory; while I did actually _sleep_ with him I did not have sex with him. Tyler had offered his bed to me one night after a long bought of drinking, and promised to sleep on the floor. Apparently, once I was passed out, he climbed into the bed and allowed everyone to think other things had happened.

I hated working there, but with a car payment and in need of things like fuel, money to wash my clothes, and pesky food, I was stuck. So I had considered Laurent's offer and after much mulling had decided to take him up on it just once to see how it all worked out. When I arrived to Laurent's house only thirty minutes later, I felt my stomach roll and churn with nervousness.

_Come on, you can do this. And remember, you'll get $200 out of it._

Chin held high, I grabbed my purse and walked up the walk to his door. Laurent's townhouse was older, and the bone colored stucco was faded and a tad dirty, his front yard was all pebbles and smooth stones with one lone sapling planted. The interior was nice and had obviously been well cared for, with three bedrooms, a study, and the commonly found great room connecting the kitchen, living, and dining room all together. When he answered the door, his hair was dripping wet and he even appeared shocked. Whoops, I had forgotten to call ahead and let him know I was coming.

Regardless, he smiled brightly and waived me inside. He was wearing his swim trunks, his thin chest exposed and slightly tinged pink, and I could only guess he was in the pool prior to my arrival. "Hi Bella!" he greeted cheerfully, "I wasn't sure if you were still coming."

I nodded, my nervousness growing by the minute. "Uh, yeah. But I just want to see how this time goes."

He nodded again and waived me to the study. "Let me grab my camera and dry off, then I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable." He left then and bounded up the stairs taking them two at a time.

The study was always tidy, but significant changes had been made this time. All the furniture was pushed awkwardly to one side of the room with the longest expanse of the room had a couch pushed up to the side and a thick blanket on resting on the arm. The curtains had all been drawn close and the room was lit with a few high-powered lamps that crowded the center of the space. Yep, apparently I was really going through with this.

When Laurent returned, he wore faded jeans – no shirt, but had a camera in one hand and was considerably drier. He grinned at me then nodded towards the kitchen, "You look nervous, want a drink before hand?"

I waffled and glanced at my watch, it was barely one o'clock in the afternoon and I did not have to be to work until seven. Mentally, I calculated how much I could drink and the time required to become sober before attempting to drive. "Okay, I can have one or two, but then nothing but water after that. I've got work tonight."

"Sure, sure. Let me go make something, c'mon – join me and tell me about your week." He took long strides towards the kitchen with me in tow behind him; I sidled up to the bar and sunk into the thick leather seats. Idly, I chatted about my week – classes that I had not attended, my sisters, and made careful note to skip over my meeting the previous night with Edward or the message from Paul this morning. In turn, Laurent told me about his week, work and hanging out with friends as we drank his daiquiris. The mushed up ice and alcohol both soothed my throat and burned it as the liquid worked its way down, and by the second drink I was feeling the bravado that only comes with alcohol.

Noticing my relaxed demeanor, Laurent waived us back to the study and closed the doors. He instructed me to disrobe and then positioned me on the couch. As the camera clicked away, the alcohol having completely squashed my inhabitations, I began to have fun in spite of myself. After several shots of my breasts and legs, Laurent began instructing me to touch myself as he shot more pictures; his voice became harsh and rough sounding as he directed me to open the folds and pinch my clit.

And then, it seemed it was over. The clicking had stopped and the only sound that remained was Laurent's harsh breathing. "Bella," he started and then cleared his throat, "you've certainly earned the money today. Would you like to earn more?"

Suspicion grazed my alcohol induced mind, but I quickly swatted it away, "How much and what?" I asked, my words slightly slurred.

"Three hundred in cash."

_Five hundred dollars!_ That was more than a week's paycheck for only a few hours and drinks worth of work. But, he hadn't mentioned _what_ I would do.

"For what?" I asked, the suspicion coloring my voice.

"More pictures," he explained and I could tell there was something he was not saying.

"Of?" I edged.

"Well," he cleared his throat again, "of giving me a blow job," he suddenly blurted.

I laughed as if the prospect of someone paying me to give them a blowjob _and_ take pictures of it were funny. "Why?"

"Well, the site has all kinds of pictures, and the ones of you touching yourself will be a hit. My buddy had already asked if he could get pictures of you blowing a boyfriend or something, but I knew you," he drifted off uneasily, "anyways, it wouldn't mean anything to either of us and it'd be more money in your pocket."

I attempted to rationalize this in my brain, logically I knew I should say no, take my $200 and sober up so I could drive to work. But, I knew I probably needed that $500 and really what was the harm? I'd known Laurent for a whole year, while he was interested in me he had never tried anything funny with me before, and overall I knew I could trust him.

_What's it going to be Swan? You going to earn that money that we both know you need? He's not a bad looking guy, who cares?_ I cringed inwardly at my reasoning, but had to acknowledge my inner bitch was right. Since my initial break up with Paul last fall, I had kind of become a slut. Paul had been the second guy I had ever slept with, but in the past year I had slept with two others alone. It wasn't like I was inexperienced or anything and with a mental shrug decided it didn't really matter.

Mustering my inner whore, I put as much passion in my eyes and slowly slinked from the couch and raised myself onto my knees. Laurent watched me intently and when I opened my mouth for him, I heard him hiss in return.

His actions were almost painfully slow, as I stayed there, on my knees with my mouth hanging open, as he carefully placed the camera down on a side table and then languidly unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and withdrew his hard cock. He retrieved the camera then, and took several shots of my position and open mouth. "Stay just like that," he barked out in his hoarse voice, "and do as I say, okay?" I nodded.

"Lick your lips like you're hungry for it," I did and the camera snapped over and over.

"Good," he praised. "Now, I'm going to rub this along your face, and I want you to try to catch it." Again I nodded.

Then he smeared his cock across my cheek, the pearl of pre-cum wet and sticky against my skin and I turned my head in attempt to capture the bulbous head between my lips. He groaned as my tongue met with the tip and I felt it throb against me. The faint sound of the camera clicking continued in the background as I listened for his instructions.

"I'm gonna put it in your mouth now. Do you swallow?"

The few blowjobs I had given, had never ended with the guy well _ending_, it was usually foreplay that ended in sex. Did I want to swallow? I wasn't sure, but the thought seemed to disgust me. "I don't know," I answered honestly.

A jerk of his head indicated that he heard me, but it was a moment before he answered, "You have two choices, I can cum in your mouth and take pictures of you holding it in your mouth," ugh – gag, "or I can cum on your face."

"Face," I replied, not wanting to taste much less hold anyone's cum in my mouth. Ugh.

"Okay, open your mouth." He slid his cock between my lips and began to thrust slowly as the camera continued to click in the background. He hissed and moaned as his now slippery cock slid in and out of my mouth. "I'm going to pull your hair now, but keep going," his voice instructed through clenched teeth.

Then his hands tangled in my hair and painfully pulled at the roots, I could feel tears welling behind my eyes and with another sharp tug felt them roll hotly down my cheeks, "Ah yes, that's perfect, look up at me," I looked up as the camera seemed to appear only inches away from my blotchy face as he dick continued to work my mouth.

It only took a few minutes longer before he was moaning, and slamming into my face, the camera all but forgotten as both hands gripped my head holding me in place, "Ah, I'm cumming," and suddenly his hands were gone as he retrieved the camera at his side, "lap it up, open your mouth, really look like you want it all over you," and I did as he said.

Afterwards, I showered again and cleaned myself off. Thankfully, after several bottles of water and the shower, my head had cleared and I felt entirely sober. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment of what I had done, but forced it back as I chastised myself – it was done and over with and I was five hundred dollars richer.

Still, when Laurent paid me, stuffing a combination of hundreds and twenties into my palm, I felt awkward. What could I say to him? "That was great Bella, I know those shots are going to be very popular. I'll polish them up and send them over to my friend, then let you know what he says in a couple of weeks – how's that sound?"

"Sounds good," my voice sounded small and timid, but I cleared my throat to mask my nervousness. "Well, thanks for the er, job – but I've gotta fight the traffic on the Strip to get to work on time. If I'm late again," I shuddered.

He nodded in understanding but called out to me as I walked towards the door, "Bella," I turned and faced him, "you know, if those pictures are as popular as I think they'll be, you won't have to work at that job if you don't want to." He winked at me and I practically stumbled out of his house.

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**A/N:** **Peeks out** So for those of you who have read other stories of mine, you may notice this one will be more gritty than the others. In this story, I'm not kidding when I say Bella has some real issues and is kind of damaged. All of my characters here will be OOC, so don't expect canon personalities.

That said, what do you think?


	5. Chapter 5: Flight

Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to SM.

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It was late afternoon when I left Laurent's house, the heat fell over my skin like a thick blanket and I could feel the sweat bead and roll down my overheated exterior. With five hundred dollars folded into my wallet, I was sorely tempted not to go into work. However, I still needed the job and that money was not going to last forever.

As I drove the busy, crowded surface streets of Las Vegas to the Strip, I began thinking about Laurent's offer. Could I really poise for more pictures? What if he wanted me to perform oral sex on him again? I knew, somewhere in my mind, I should feel dirty at the whole affair, but somehow could not find it in me to be bothered. I _wanted_ to feel guilty for my lack of shame, but also felt glad to not be disturbed.

My phone buzzed and trilled loudly next to me and startled I reached for it to peer at the incoming number.

_Edward._

A smile spread across my face before I had time to rein it in. One hand gripped the steering wheel while fingers of the other hovered over "answer" or "ignore". Thoughtfully, I bit my lip – I liked Edward, and wanted to spend more time with him, but really didn't like how much I _liked_ him after only one real discussion.

Ignore then.

Without moving my sight from the road in front of me, I replaced the phone in my purse and was withdrawing my hand to flip through the radio when the phone trilled again. Excitement seeped through my limbs as I realized that Edward was calling me again. _Persistent. I like it._

The grin soon melted from my face as I answered the call, number unseen, "Hello?" I answered cheerfully.

"Hey babe," came Paul's voice over the line.

"What do you want?" I bit out, my jaw clenching together to hold back the sudden anger that quickly overtook my earlier excitement.

"Well, I was hoping you could give me a ride to the MGM. I'm meeting someone up there, and no one's at the Pike house to give me a lift. Could you swing by for me? Maybe drop me off before your shift at work?"

Ah! The nerve of that bastard! He wanted me to give him a ride for a date – I _knew_ it! My hand tightened painfully around the thick rectangular phone and I struggled to keep my anger from coloring my voice, "No Paul. Sorry." Quickly I hit the red "end" button and tossed the phone back into the purse.

Traffic was still at a crawl and I allowed myself to think back to my senior year in high school. Two falls previous and it was supposed to be my best year yet – I had been accepted as a member of the Executive Board for my student council and senior class, was named Vice President of the Creative Writing Club, and had earned a place in the Madrigals choir. All in all, this year was turning out to be a good one. Student Council had a meeting planned for the week before classes began, we would plan the Welcome Back Dance, paint posters, and form committees to work on various projects that needed to be completed within the month.

Our student body president, Jeanine, had placed me in an assorted group of freshmen through seniors. Included in our group was the art department's representative, Paul Martinez, a lanky but somewhat filled out Hispanic boy with spiked black hair, sagging jeans, and some sort of anime t-shirt that was several sizes too large for him. Although that style did not appeal to me, something about him caught my attention and before I knew it, we were flirting shamelessly with one another.

Admittedly, I was quite out of practice. In my previous three years of high school, I had exactly three boyfriends – only one of whom was serious, two were casual and had not exactly done the whole "dating" thing. To say this was uncharted territory was quite the understatement. Of course, most of the school knew _who _I was through reputation and it did not exactly make the boys flock to my side in interest. Our first date had been the Welcome Back Dance, my parents had been out of town in Utah and we took advantage of the unsupervised time. I groaned as I recalled the heavy petting and make out sessions during those brief three days and wished I had learned my lesson from my freshman year in high school. Yet, I had not and within just a month of dating, we had sex.

The relationship itself should have ended during infancy, yet I could not bear to detangle myself from Paul – or perhaps it was the idea of a solid relationship that really hooked me. Regardless, shortly after prom I found out I was pregnant.

Another car horn sounded behind me and I started with a jump. I really needed to stop daydreaming so much and pay attention, especially during rush hour this close to the Strip. Timidly I pressed the gas pedal and inched forward through the intersection. For the remainder of the drive, I focused my thoughts only on the car in front of me and the time remaining until my shift started.

I had approximately twenty minutes to spare when I pulled my car into an empty space in the employee-parking garage. Quickly, I flitted from the car – my work uniform haphazardly thrown over my arm, and jogged down the three flights of stairs to the ground level. My feet smacked loudly against the pavement as I crossed the back alley street that separate the employee parking garage and the tail end of Caesar's Forum Shops. At the end of the alley was a back door that led directly into the forum shops, right by Virgin Megastore and more importantly, mere yards from Victoria's Secret: Beauty Shop. My feet slipped as I struggled to regain my balance on the surface and continue my movement forward. Yet, even with my clumsiness and the crowds of people that slowed my rushed pace, I made it to the store with fifteen minutes to spare. Wheezing and huffing, I winked at Mike as I strolled past him and into the back to change into my all black uniform with my Victoria's Secret apron tied around my waist.

The shift passed quickly – a few smoke breaks and a lunch break later, and soon it was time to close up shop. As Mike and I cleaned the makeup brushes and wiped down counters while our manager counted tills, we chatted about the weekend.

"So whatcha up to after this?" he asked as he sprayed each brush with solution and fluffed it against the terry cloth towels.

I shrugged, unsure of what my plans were. It was already 1 AM, and I knew that being a Friday night – the Greek parties would just be getting started. "I dunno, you guys having a party tonight?"

He nodded, "Of course! It's Friday night and finals are over! You gonna come over?"

I considered for a moment, I could easily drive on over to the Pike house after closing up and loose myself to drinks and dancing, but their last party still bothered me. That party had actually been at one of the brother's houses up in Summerlin, not far from my own parents' home. The sleepy neighborhood was lined with cars of partygoers as they walked and stumbled through the doors. Music blared from unseen stereo system and people were dancing in the bare living room. Alcohol sloshed onto the floor and clothes as people crowded through hallways from room to room.

But it wasn't the loud music that easily could have resulted in an angry neighbor calling the cops for noise ordinances, or the heavy throng of people one had to pass through just to make way from the living room to the kitchen. None of those things mattered, what had upset me and set my heart racing was when I noticed a fine white powder resting on a coffee table being cut into straight lines and the unmistakable sound of people sniffing and snorting. Drugs were my line in the sand; I did not go near them or attend parties where they might be. Quickly I had turned from the room and practically ran through the front door. I had already exited the neighborhood and was driving down the sleepy residential road when I saw three cruisers with their lights flashing speed by me.

Gossip spread like wildfire the next day throughout Greeks and non-Greeks alike, partygoers had been busted and several people had been taken in for drug use and underage drinking. Even though it was the first party I had noticed drug use, I had kept my distance from the Pikes, their house, and any parties they hosted.

"Well, you coming?" Mike asked again and I realized I had failed to answer him.

"Probably not, I think the Delta Chis are having a party, Jess and Lauren asked me to come and be their designated driver," I answered. It was not an outright lie, I did know that Jess and Lauren had in fact invited me to a party although I could not remember which one it was, but figured I could always give them a call after we closed.

I didn't end up going to a party, but rather spent the weekend working and actually driving home. My parents steadily ignored me and I did the same in return. As I sat in my bedroom Sunday night, I thought over our deteriorating relationship. I couldn't really blame them, I had always been the black sheep of the family – my mother's mistake, the black sheep before me. In truth, I had never really felt like I fit in with them – a liberal from childhood to their conservative beliefs.

My biological mother was the eldest daughter of my parents, or technically my grandparents, who had sloshed her own way through high school ambling from party to party and escalating from alcohol to drugs. As she progressed, she became withdrawn and even violent towards my parents, until one day she ended up pregnant by some Mexican she had randomly slept with while too drunk to really consider the implications.

It was the 80s then and racial lines were still raw in some neighborhoods, so it was while pregnant with me that my grandparents, their children, and of course my mother and father had relocated to South Carolina to start anew. It didn't really go as expected and at the tender age of five; my father had abandoned his small family. I can't say I really blamed him, and recalled when my own mother finally stepped away, leaving me with her parents. Renee and Charlie Swan had been gracious and spoiled me as any grandparent would spoil their first grandchild. Never in my life could I recall wanting for any _thing_ as they lavished material possessions onto me. As the only child to the aging couple, I learned to entertain myself through books, music, and my imagination but I was lonely for friends to share my time with.

I don't recall how old I was when I realized that love was measured by the amount of money one person spent on another. I do recall when the hard reality hit me as the gifts stopped and of course, in my mind that meant their love did as well.

_Poor little rich girl,_ my mind cruelly teased.

Of course I could hardly begrudge them their anger and disappointment; as a child I had been quiet, well behaved, and rule follower through and through. It was only in middle school when I began hanging out with a crowd they didn't like – and looking back was in fact the wrong crowd – did I start to change. Like my mother before me, I became sullen, withdrawn, and began sneaking behind their backs to do what I wanted despite the consequences. At the time, I had felt my parents were too controlling, too overbearing, and snobby as they spoke about people who had less than they did.

It would only take a couple of years before I saw the wisdom in what they tried to warn me, but it was too late and again following in my mother's footsteps I had shamed the family and we fled to the city of Las Vegas.

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**A/N**: Big thank you to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and favorites, and left a review. :) I wanted to leave you with some answers to questions I received regarding the last chapter.

1) I'm sorry if the first bit of Ch 4 was difficult to get through and feel the need to explain myself. If you've read other stories I'm working on, you may notice that I do tend to at least attempt to create the imagery and feel of being there with my characters. My husband, who when time allows, reads through my work and edits things - says my initial lack of details is an opportunity for improvement. So I try very hard to think of details that will awaken the imagination so to speak. I am actually from Las Vegas and there are so many sights, sounds, and even smells that I'm sure I don't really do it justice, but I hope to try.

2) Gritty Story and Overcoming: My DH and I were talking about this last night - is Edward the hero in this story or is he the catalyst for the changes that _need_ to happen to Bella? I guess that's debatable, but I do want to assure those reading that while Bella is a complete mess right now, this story is about the changes in her life to make her into a better person. I do want to warn you though - if you think she's hit rock bottom, you are mistaken. We do have a ways to go downward before she hits and starts to change. So please bear with me.

3) Rape/Sexual Abuse: I want to say that Bella has been through some sexual stuff and that they do technically qualify as rape but she won't view them as such (let's say it involves her first night of drinking and true to character takes all blame on herself). In my story, Bella is a very sexual person, but not this self assured sexually free person or this nympho either. She enjoys sex, she uses sex to feel empowered or close to people, and as time goes on it kind of becomes almost the villain in the story even though it's not really a person. There are two incidents - one from her past and one that will happen in the future that may be tough for readers to read (they are not violent nor is she unwilling, but they fall along the same lines of Chapter 4) and I will place a warning at the top of those chapters.

Hope this answers some questions. :) If you liked this chapter even a tiny bit (yes I know, not a lot of action but we found out more about Bella) or have theories about what exactly Bella has done in her past, please consider leaving me a review. I love interacting with you all.


	6. Chapter 6: First Date

Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to SM.

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Days passed, blurred together as I continued to go through the motions. Edward still called, left messages, and although I could not bring myself to answer him, he never once sounded defeated. There was something about him – something that both drew me to him, but something that also awoken every protective instinct to shelter and protect him. The ironic part was that I wanted to protect him _from me_. I had no illusions about how fucked up I was – unstable, irresponsible, selfish, and completely, irrevocably messed up. Yet, still he called and I yearned to both respond to him and at the same time push him further away. So I ignored him, ignored his messages, and did my best not to linger on our night spent talking at the UC.

Laurent called a week later, he informed me the site owner loved the pictures and would probably want some more in a few months. I was unsure of how I felt about that, it would give me an opportunity to earn easy money, but at the same time, I wasn't sure if I could bear the non-guilt guilt associated with it either.

"Bella?" Laurent's smooth voice over the phone interrupted my musing.

"Er, yes? I'm sorry." I apologized.

"I was saying, I have a friend who manages the Library. Do you have a Sherriff's card? If so, I bet I can get you in for an audition." My mind struggled to place the Library and the need for a Sherriff's card. He sighed, as if he understood my distraction, "We were just talking about it? The Library, the gentleman's club over off Boulder Highway."

Now I remembered. Laurent had been talking about a new strip club that had opened up, he was a friend of the manager, and apparently the club seemed to be quite successful. "Uh, sure, I have a Sherriff's card, but Laurent I don't really have the body of a stripper," I neglected to add the fact that I couldn't cross a flat surface without finding something to trip on.

"I don't believe you see yourself clearly," he chuckled. "Anyways, I'll get in touch with my friend and get back to you, ok?"

"Sure, sure. Sounds great. Just let me know." Suddenly I was in a hurry to get off the phone with him. We hung up and I placed the phone on the seat next to me.

It was a Friday night, just over two weeks since I had chatted with Edward into the early hours of the morning. I was parked outside the Pike house, finally relenting when Jamie had begged me to come with her tonight. _Please don't let me run into Paul, let him be working or just out or something._

As the hours passed, with beer pong, loud music, and chatting up other groups of smokers, I began to relax. Of course, it's when I relaxed that I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Hey babe!"

Ugh. Really? I glanced down at my watch and realized it was around 1:30 AM and of course, would be right around the time he got off work and still have time to come here. Mentally, I calculated how much I had to drink and what the chances were of sobering up to drive home. I grimaced as I recalled Mike offering me the floor of his room so I didn't have to worry about sobering up. Cheerfully I agreed since Jamie would also be sleeping in the room, and had continued to toss back shot after shot. Now, Paul was here and I wanted to be anywhere but.

Turning, I forced my face into not such a bitch grimace and acknowledged him, "Hi Paul," I said and turned to leave.

"Hey, hey – not so fast. Wanna dance?"

In spite of myself, my jaw started to drop before I quickly recovered. His nerve always seemed to shock me. We were currently in the "off again" part of our relationship, and I had a feeling it was final. The relief that we wouldn't continue this ugly pattern of back and forth had lifted a weight from my shoulders; and yet here we were – Paul asking me to dance as if nothing untoward had occurred between us.

He stood there, hand out in offering, and a loopy grin spread across his face. In the two years we'd known each other, his taste in clothes had greatly improved. The long shorts he wore were a dark green, and the blue t-shirt with PKA stitched on the front actually fit him. He still reeked of too much cologne and his hair was still carefully gelled into a nest of spikes atop his head.

"No, thank you." I replied politely through gritted teeth.

"Ah, come on. Don't be like that. Just a dance?"

My mind knew I shouldn't relent, but whether it was my inebriated brain from the alcohol or poor judgment in general, I gave in and followed him to the dance floor. We danced and drank, then danced and drank some more and as the early morning hours waned and people began to filter through the doors and to their rooms, we settled on a vacant couch.

We talked, about what I can't recall, but then his lips were on mine. They were hot and insistent, his hands tangled in my hair damp from the stifling heat of the house. His breath reeked of alcohol and I knew mine tasted the same only tinted with tobacco. As he deepened the kiss, I felt cocooned in the familiarity he presented. The sting of his many betrayals seemed to melt away in the moment and I found myself responding to him. When he tugged my hand, leading me to the only empty room in the quieting frat house, I willingly followed.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of my phone chirping; my head throbbed and though the room was slightly darkened by the heavy makeshift curtains that framed the only window, the sun still seemed too bright. I groaned quietly and rolled over in bed, and then I realized I wasn't alone in bed.

Awkwardly, I also realized I was naked and tangled with Paul.

_Not again._ Inwardly I berated myself, angry that once again I had fallen into the cycle of sex with him. Hazy memories of the previous night seemed to slowly awaken as I recalled dancing with him, talking, and then willingly following him up the stairs and down the hall to this empty room. In that moment, I felt the spasm of hate that ripped through me, God how I hated myself for giving in _again_.

Yet, the phone in my purse still chirped and I reached over the side of the bed into the bag to retrieve it.

_Edward._

I don't know why I answered his call – perhaps something inside me finally broke and gave as my mind realized something had to change. "Hello," my voice was gravely and harsh from the night of excess drinking and smoking.

"Finally you answered!" he teased, "I was wondering what you're doing this afternoon?"

_Nothing. Absolutely nothing because I have no life._

"Uh, I don't think I have any plans. What's up?" I tried to discreetly clear my throat so as not to sound so haggard.

"Well, want to meet up and hang out?" His offer hung in the air as I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping, _naked_ asshole to my side.

"Sure," I answered quickly.

"Great! Why don't you come over to my house, say in an hour?" I pulled my right arm to my face and squinted as I attempted to make out the time. _Holy shit!_ It was already 11 o'clock, as if to emphasize the point my stomach growled in hunger. Paul stirred slightly at my side, but thankfully did not wake.

"That sounds great, I'm starving. I'll be there soon." We said our goodbyes and I replaced the phone in my bag. My eyes scanned the room in search of my clothes and found them piled up on the floor. Ever so quietly, I gathered them together and considered taking a hot shower. Thankfully, this was the only room in the house with the bathroom joined by a door rather than separated and down the hall. I moved my clothes and purse into the bathroom and started the water as I searched for shampoo, soap, and perhaps some kind of lotion. Being a frat house, I considered myself lucky that I found the shampoo and soap. As I folded my clothes on the counter and prepared to step into the hot relaxing stream, I heard the door behind me open and I cursed myself for not remembering to lock it behind me.

Paul's arms circled my waist as he kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, "Want some company?"

"No, I'm just getting ready to leave."

I shoved him roughly from the room, locked the door, and stepped into the welcoming shower.

Shower complete, my hair brushed and almost dry thanks to the dry air, I exited the house and made my escape to my car. Paul had been on his phone and had briefly waived to me in goodbye, he probably assumed there'd be another interlude and didn't bother trying to talk to me. For that, I was grateful. It seemed as if luck was on my side, because the house had been empty as I walked quietly through the halls and living room to the front door, and I had been spared the walk of shame.

In my car, I had my makeup bag that included things like deodorant, moisturizer, and of course makeup. Thankfully, the scorching heat had not yet melted any of these things so I was able to pull into the parking lot of the nearest Target center and use the facilities to smooth over my somewhat rough appearance.

My shower had left me smelling slightly like a frat boy as the only body soap they had was some kind of Old Spice with the strong aroma of after shave. In the restroom of Target, I rubbed my favorite vanilla fragranced body lotion over my limbs and sighed, as my skin seemed to drink in the cool liquid. Next, I applied deodorant and then ran another brush through my hair. Today it had that beach bum look with wild waves that came from air-drying the thick locks. Acknowledging nothing could be done about the matter, I changed my top from the one last night to a peasant top with thick wide straps that buttoned above the swell of each breast. I applied some foundation to cover up the dark shadows of my eyes, popped some eye drops in to clear up my hung over appearance, and brushed some blush to the apples of my cheeks. I examined my eyes in the mirror; the red fading a bit, the purplish shadows beneath my eyes well hidden, but my eyelids looked slightly puffy and maybe discolored from the drinking the night before. With a sigh, I brushed on a nude colored eye shadow and finished the look with some mascara.

Satisfied, I sprayed myself with the matching body spray to my lotion. I smelled clean, looked clean, and mostly did not look hung over. It would have to do. Butterflies flapped in my stomach as I exited the store and walked back to my car. From here, Edward's apartment was less than a five-minute drive and I was a bit nervous. Would he be mad that I had ignored him for so long? He seemed to be in high spirits this morning, but really – what did I know about him?

Time most certainly did not seem to stand still as the minutes on the clock in my car ticked by. I had committed to meeting him, and I did admit I was curious, so with that I started the engine and drove the short distance to his home.

Edward's second floor apartment sat at the end of a cul-de-sac that appeared mostly empty. Unsure of where to park, I went ahead and pulled my car up to the curb and killed the engine. I had changed out my purse for a larger bag and had stuffed my meltables along with my wallet, cigarettes, and cell phone in it.

Nervously, I walked the short walkway from my car to the stairs leading to the door of his apartment. My hand curled into a fist as I raised it to rapt on the door. The door swung easily open, and a guy I didn't recognize opened the door. "Yes?" he asked. He was tall, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes dressed in long khaki shorts and a slightly oversized gray t-shirt.

"Is Edward home?" I asked.

"Sure, come on in. I'll go get him." He moved to the side, gesturing for me to enter, and I walked in. The apartment was small and had all the telltale signs that college kids were the inhabitants. Two couches sat to my right, they appeared older and well used with sagging cushions. On the opposite wall was a small television with a couple of games systems and wires tangled together. From where I awkwardly stood waiting for Edward, I could see the absence of a kitchen table in the small dining room and could only guess that either dishes or trash was stacked, almost overflowing in the kitchen area. To my left was a longer hallway and I could make out two doors on the right side of the hallway, one door at the end, and two on the left side. The first door on the right side of the hallway opened and my heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

It wasn't Edward, but I did recognize the guy who stepped out. Jacob grinned as he also recognized me. "Hey, look who it is. Bella, right?" I nodded. He walked past me and sat on one of the couches, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he relaxed into the old cushions. "So whatcha doing here?" he asked, rubbing his sleepy and slightly red eyes. I realized then that he too maybe slightly hung over.

"She's here to see me," came Edward's smooth voice. I turned towards the sound and felt my entire body relax as he approached. Casually, he draped an arm around my shoulders and I felt my skin hum and tingle from the contact. "Come on, let's go to my room."

The words should have made me nervous – and slightly ashamed, but I nodded my consent. His room was the last door on the right, and fairly large for such a compact apartment. It was simply furnished with a twin bed pushed against the wall in the right corner, a computer sat on a desk next to the bed, a futon was pushed against the immediate left wall, and in the corner sat a television. Under the television were several VHS tapes and CDs, and I concluded he must enjoy movies and music. He gestured to the futon for me to have a seat. I sat cross-legged on the far end and taking his cues from me sat on the opposite end.

"So, anywhere in particular you'd like to go for lunch?"

I shrugged, "Nothing comes to mind. How about you?"

"Nah. I need to swing by the mall and pick something up; we can grab something in the food court and then come back here and watch a movie? Have you seen _Crouching Tiger_ yet?" The name sounded familiar and I vaguely recalled it was a more recent release with kung fu or something.

"Nope. That sounds like a plan."

Edward drove and I stifled a laugh at his truck. It was a 1980s Nissan pickup truck with plenty of character and a large stick shift that jutted out next to the driver. He shrugged and explained it got him from point a to point b. We drove to the nearby Boulevard Mall and parked near the food court. As usual, the mall was bustling with activity and we each went our separate ways to grab our favorite foods. We met back at a table near the window and began catching up. It was odd, but it seemed as if the past two weeks didn't exist, as if we had been chatting the night away just the evening before. After we finished eating, I followed Edward to a nearby clothing store where we browsed together. We made fun of the ugly outfits; he pointed out obviously uncomfortable looking shoes and asked, "Why do girls wear those things? They look like torture devices." I laughed as I tried to explain that it made our legs look longer or was meant to attract men. He scowled as he imagined it and I hurried to assure him I never wore anything like that. I shuddered as I imagined my toes painfully pinched together and aching feet from the uncomfortable height of the heels.

We each ended up picking out some new items – I selected a new shirt since all of mine were dirty, save the one I wore, and he elected to pick up a new pair of cargo shorts and a bright blue and white plaid button down short sleeved shirt. He drove us back to his house and we retreated to his room. Having not tried on the clothing at the store, Edward decided to try it on once we returned. He shocked me though as he began stripping his clothes, bedroom door wide open, and a self assured smirk on his lips. Slowly, as if to tease me, he unbuttoned his existing shirt and tossed it to the floor of the closet.

_Do not drool. Do not stare at him with your mouth wide open. Be cool_.

He reached into a side drawer and pulled out a plain white t-shirt and pulled it over his head and down across his well-sculpted shoulders and flat abs. Damn, he was beautiful. He then pulled the shirt from the bag, yanked the tags off, and slipped it on. "How's it look?" he asked innocently.

"Good," I croaked, trying to keep my voice in control.

He smirked, as if he knew how attracted I was to him. When he began to unzip his pants, I had to turn away in embarrassment. _Haha, the slut is embarrassed – that's fresh._ I heard laughter poorly disguised as a cough, the drop of his shorts and then the material sliding over his skin as he pulled the new shorts on. I turned again as he turned for me, "Very nice," I whispered.

Grinning, he winked at me as he dropped the previous shorts into his closet.

We left the bedroom then and he sat me on the shorter couch facing the television, then returned to the unit and placed the VHS tape of the movie in. The screen crackled for a moment as the static cleared from the beginning of the tape and the images came into focus. Edward took a seat next to me, far closer this time than when in his room, and rested his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers brushing through my hair.

As we watched the previews of movies coming soon to theaters, I could feel the tension in the air thicken. "So, uh – where are your roommates?"

"They're out," he answered in reply.

"How many do you have?" I asked, partly in attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Well, officially, I have two roommates, but currently we have seven people living here."

Wow, that was a lot of people in this seemingly tiny little apartment. In my mind I tried to calculate where everyone slept and why so many were here, but was easily distracted as Edward's fingers moved from my hair to the back of my neck.

The hum increased.

The screen went black as actors' names faded in and out across the screen and a sad melody played.

I swallowed thickly, trying to concentrate on the movie before me. My body was all too aware of his movement next to me, and it did not escape my attention when he scooted closer. My head turned of its own accord as he neared me and I found myself swimming in his brilliant green eyes.

"I'd like to try something," he whispered, his eyes darting from my face to my lips. I nodded.

Lips lowered to mine then, gentle at first and I felt heat shoot through me. I had been kissed before, but never before had my body reacted so thoroughly to anyone. Every nerve in my body seemed to come awake, my mind pushed me forward, and I found my hands tangled in his hair tugging him closer still. A wet, yet sensual tongue licked the seam of my lips and I opened to him, feeling his tongue explore the cavern of my mouth.

A moan escaped me then and I pushed myself closer to him. Arms circled around my waist, fingers tangled in the hem of my shirt, and pulled me tightly to his body. Ragged breathing escaped him as he tore his mouth from mine and began planting soft, wet kisses along my jawline to my ear and gently pulled my lobe into his hot mouth. As he sucked on the lobe I pulled on his hair, tugging at the bronze colored roots and he growled in response.

The door opened then, banged loudly against the wall and we shot apart. Chests heaving, we regarded one another for a moment longer then turned attention elsewhere, he to the people who loudly entered the room and I to the movie in front of me. Familiar voices of Jessica and Lauren broke through my concentration and I turned my attention to the group of people who had entered. Jacob was there, his arm loosely around one of my sorority sisters – one of the girls who were in my new member class and I searched my memory for her name. Additionally, Jess and Lauren meandered through and they all sat on the long couch opposite of us.

"Hey guys!" Jess gushed and she grinned widely at Edward. He smiled in return. "We were just talking about heading to TGIF for some dinner, want to join us?" Though her focus was more on Edward, I could tell through her friendly tone she included me in the invitation.

He looked to me and I found myself glancing at my watch. Hours had passed and I realized I was again hungry. "Sure, that sounds good."

"Cool," Jacob piped in. "Let me grab a jacket, it's always freezing in there," he stood and walked to his room.

Edward was smirking at me, but I couldn't figure out why. Was it because I so easily caved and kissed him back? His lean body rose from the couch and he offered his hand to help me up. I reached forward and grasped his hand, feeling the familiar hum at the contact, and allowed him to tug me upwards.

If the others noticed a difference between us, they didn't comment on it. We decided to pile into the available cars, and Edward, Jess, and Lauren said they'd ride with me. Hurriedly, I ran ahead and threw my belongings into the trunk of the car to make room. Edward sat in the passenger seat, Jess and Lauren in the back, and they happily chatted the whole drive there.

The restaurant was slightly busy when we arrived, but we were seated fairly quickly. The staff pushed together some tables to fit our growing group as Jacob invited along their roommate Jon and his girlfriend. Aromas of burgers and fries wafted through the air and my stomach growled again in response. Our hostesses, a young girl about our age, led us to our tables that overlooked the bar below. Edward pulled my chair out for me and then sat next to me.

Dinner was filled with the chatter of our friends as they discussed finals and the start of the summer semester. Try as I might to listen, I was endlessly distracted as Edward's hand rubbed what should have been soothing circles along my exposed thigh above my knee. His touch was electric and I craved more.

Dinner came to an end, and the waitress delivered our individual checks with the gratuity already factored in. I wagered she had been stiffed enough time from the poor, local college students to take more proactive measures. As I reached for my ticket, Edward's hand shot out snatching it. Questioningly, I looked to him and he whispered in my ear, "I've got this," then placed bills inside the black fold with the tickets. "Let's head out. Jess and Lauren can ride with someone else." He winked at me and I nodded.

"Bella's going to take me back guys, I'm kind of wiped," he smoothly lied. They nodded and each hollered their goodbyes to him over the noise of the restaurant. We walked closely to one another, but not quite touching, in relative silence to my car. The drive was a short one and before I knew it, we had reached his apartment again.

Nervous, I turned to him, engine still rumbling, seat belt still buckled, "I guess I'll see you around?" I questioned, suddenly unsure of what this was or where it was going.

Another smirk, "Come inside," he offered and leaning close to me, mere inches from my face, turned and whispered in my ear, "stay the night," he requested. I felt the flutter in my stomach, the damp heat from his breath, and the hum ring loudly in my ears.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark – the blackness of his pupils dilated and expanded almost swallowing the beautiful emerald of his orbs in complete darkness. Fingers curled around the back of my neck and applied a small amount of pressure as they pulled me closer to him. My breathing was shallow and erratic, swimming and downing in his scent, his nearness, his touch; and I knew without a doubt, this man would be the death of me.

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**A/N:** I know, I know - I'm spoiling you with two updates in one day. I just know with my crazy work schedule I won't be able to update again until possibly next week. So I wanted to give you their first date. Let me know if you think I should get one more update out today (although eventually I do have work to get done including _Ginnungagap_).

Reviews are better than an Edward strip dance. ;-)


	7. Chapter 7: Stay

Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to SM.

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I turned the engine off, unbuckled my seat belt, and exited the car. Awkwardly, I stumbled from the front of the car and stubbed my exposed toes into the cement sidewalk. Nervousness pulsed through my body as Edward stood on the sidewalk, patiently in wait for me to join him. As I approached, he offered his hand and gladly I took it.

We walked the short expanse to the stairs and paused at the top while he unlocked the front door. My heart beat loudly in my ears as he opened the door and waived me inside. Would he expect sex? Did I want to have sex with him? Should we really be moving this quickly? I swallowed thickly and stepped through, he closed the door and holding my hand, led me to his room. The room looked the same as before, only now lit by a harsh yellow light shining from a clip lamp secured to the side of his desk. I blinked at the offensive glare and turned back to face Edward. Once inside, he closed the door and smirked at me, his lips creating a lopsided crooked grin.

My heart went into overdrive; the blood seemed to roar in my eardrums drowning out all other sounds.

He stepped closer to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I tilted my head up to look into his face – eyes dark and hooded, he gazed back at me. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he whispered and I nodded my understanding.

Warm lips met mine then, pushed gently against my own; his hot tongue licked the pout of my lower lip, teeth grazed against it. My blood boiled under my skin – my body felt flush and overheated as he continued his exploration of my closed lips. I moaned, and opened my mouth to him, our tongues met then, caressed one another before his dominated mine. Fingers curled into my sides, biting gently into the soft flesh at my hips and my back bowed and arched towards his. Each curve and dip of my body seemed to perfectly align with the hard plains and lean lines of his body. His hard chest seemed to push tightly against my breasts, his pelvis into my belly.

Slowly, he backed me away from the door until the back of my calves knocked into the side of his twin bed. I cried out in shock as the cold wood met my bare skin, and he broke the kiss for a moment. Gently, he guided me down towards the bed, our ragged breathing the only sound in the room.

We sat, our legs touching together – smooth skin to feather light hair brushed against one another. Never breaking his gaze, he toed his shoes then socks from his feet and kicked them absently across the room. My own toes curled inside my sandals as I considered also kicking them off. Finally breaking the gaze, he stooped down and grasped my ankle to bring it to his lap. The skin of my calf brushed against his erection and he hissed in response. Breathing deeply, he slid the sandal from my foot, and then with strong fingers massaged the ball of my foot, pulled on the muscles and then separated each toe and tugged lightly on them as well, then kissed my ankle before returning it to the floor. He repeated the same action with the other foot.

"The light," I breathed, nodding my head to the lamp at the side.

He seem puzzled, or perhaps disappointed, "But I want to see you," he explained.

My cheeks flamed and I dipped my head. I didn't want him to see me, to see my body. He seemed to understand and reached to the side of the bed and clicked the lamp off, the room was now bathed in a combination of the streetlights from outside and a small nightlight in the far corner of the room.

Acting on instinct, I lied down on the bed, my back meeting the firm surface of his bed, the sheets cool against my skin. He leaned over me and kissed me again, his hands cupped the back of my neck. Moving away from my lips, he peppered wet kisses along my jaw, licked my earlobe again, and then traveled down the slender expanse of my neck.

Beneath him, my body was aflame – truly awakened with desire and every nerve called out for _more_. I moaned and tangled my fingers in his hair as he kissed the dip of my collar, and then each shoulder. "You're so beautiful," he breathed against my skin. Slowly, he rocked his rips into me, and I cried out again from the beautiful pleasure it evoked.

My hands traveled to the edge of his shirt and then beneath it to feel his skin under my fingertips. With ease, he yanked the shirt from his body and pressed his warm, bare chest closer to me.

Feathery kisses grazed along the swell of each breast, and the uncomfortable underwire of my bra bit into my skin. I pushed him away for a moment, "Let me take my bra off," I explained and deftly reached behind my back to unhook the offending garment, then threw it to the floor.

Even in the dark, I could see or perhaps rather, feel the grin the spread across his face. "How do I get this shirt off?" he asked, his fingers already tugging at the hem.

The moment felt so right, _he_ felt so right – and I knew without a doubt how much I wanted him. But as I considered his question, I recalled my initial reaction to his pursuit of me – that I was inexplicably drawn to him, but also felt oddly, and strangely protective of him. I wanted to protect him from the heartache that I would surely bring to him, the ugliness that most likely come to us – perhaps not initially but at some point we would grow to hate each other. My body shuddered as the fear momentarily gripped me, gripped my heart in steel hands and squeezed painfully as the idea of his now beautiful eyes blazing with anger, hate even, towards me. I recoiled as the idea that he would push me away grew in my mind and took hold.

No, although I had only known him a short amount of time, I could not deny the tug I felt towards him, the draw and appeal he held for me. Was it mere infatuation that I held for him? How did he feel towards me?

I doubted.

I doubted the action I so wanted to take, I doubted and I feared.

With these thoughts, these worries and concerns in my mind – I slowly pushed his hands away and whispered, "You don't," and cringed as he stilled above me, "I understand if you want me to leave, perhaps it wasn't," the pads of his fingers stopped me from continuing.

"It's okay," he said and kissed the tip of my nose, "we can stop, and watch a movie, sleep – whatever you want. Although, I still want you to spend the night with me." He kissed me again and nuzzled my neck as he waited my reply.

This gorgeous man, this Adonis whose bed I lied in – with his arms around me, lips to my skin, want resting against my thigh – merely wanted me to spend the night. We didn't have to have sex; he wouldn't throw me from his bed, from his room if I failed to meet any expectations. He was shockingly, surprisingly – content to just _be_ with me. I returned his kiss and murmured against his lips, "Yes, I would like that very much."

In the night, I felt his smile as he nuzzled my neck and pressed a kiss to the skin there. "I'm glad," and he kissed my neck again, pressed his nose against the tender skin located at the junction of my neck and shoulders. Arms held me close, pulled me tightly against his body, secured me in his warm embrace and I sighed, content in the moment.

In the dark, his hands rubbed up and down my back, his lips kissed my skin, my hair, and my lips as he whispered to me. We never turned on a movie, or music, or anything else that required us to leave the bed. Together, we remained entwined beneath the covers, limbs tangled with limbs, and hearts beating wildly against the other's chest.

The front door opened and slammed as loud, boisterous voices carried from the living room down the hall to his room. Voices mingled and mixed together, laughter erupted, the hallway lights glowed beneath the crack of his door; yet slowly the sounds filtered from my mind leaving on a hum, like that of a refrigerator, in its place. Not long after, sleep took hold of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling me towards my own sleep. My eyelids felt heavy and began to drift close, but as I fought the downward tug of sleep, I felt a hot tear slid down my cheek. Then sleep took me.

My dreams were hazy – arms wrapped around me, whispers in my ear, hips that pressed insistently against my thigh, and a warm body to my side. When the blaring sound of an alarm jarred me awake, I shot straight up in the bed. I realized, shocked, that my dream hadn't been a dream at all, to my side was Edward, wide awake, shirtless, and grinning as he drank me in. His strong arms were open, welcoming me to return to his side, and I lowered myself again to rest beside his body. "Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," I returned his greeting. Without my consent, my face pressed against his warm chest and I inhaled his scent, a sandalwood spice mixture that tickled my senses.

"You stayed." Arms tightened around me in a gentle squeeze, "I'm so glad you stayed." Kisses were peppered throughout the crown of my head. His hand reached down, cupped my chin, and tilted my face upwards, "I have to get to class, but will back in about two hours. Will you stay? You can sleep in, shower – whatever. Just be here when I return, please."

Something inside me begged to stay, to remain wrapped in his warm sheets, cocooned in his aroma – to eagerly await his return. Yet, there was discord as another part of me encouraged me to run, put as much distance between us, and protect my heart, myself from the fallout sure to occur. My limbs felt like lead, unmovable and in this moment, I knew that I would remain here, in his bed with or without him as he had requested. "Yes, I'll stay."

He eyes danced with delight and he kissed my nose again, "Thank you." Then he rolled over me and tickled my sides, eliciting laughter to fall from my lips in response. His long legs touched the ground to the side of the bed and swiftly pulled on a new shirt, clean socks, and slipped on his shoes from the previous night. A backpack I had previously overlooked was positioned to the side of the futon, and he lifted it with ease onto one shoulder, and then turned round to face me. Slowly, he bent at the waist and kissed me on the lips gently at first, then as the fire raced between us, he applied more pressure until we were breathless, our foreheads inclined towards the other.

He laughed, "I should go now, or I won't leave this room." Another quick peck on the cheek and he dashed from the room, closing the door behind him. As the bed cooled in his absence my mind began to race and question the decision made. Should I really remain here, in his bed, in wait for him? I chewed on my lip, indecisive.

Sleep tugged at the edges of my consciousness, pulling and luring me to close my eyes and rest. Yet my limbs twitched restlessly as the indecision itched at my mind.

Stay?

Leave?

Stay?

Or leave?

I wanted to stay, _God_ how I wanted to stay, but at the same time I knew logically I should leave. I should get dressed, gather my few things, and leave his room, decline his calls, and ignore him until he faded into a memory.

A memory.

Such pleasant, unexpected memories.

He held me last night, soothed me, and kissed me tenderly. And while it was obvious he wanted me, he had respected me – had not pushed me to go further. Remembering further back, I recalled the ease of our conversation at the bar.

With a start, I realized that I liked him.

Really liked him.

_Shit._

I didn't _want_ to like him

Yet here I was, snuggled in his bed, waiting his return, remembering our time together thus far, and _liking_ him. This could only lead to problems.

_Problems be damned!_ My heart screamed, and for once we were in agreement.

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**A/N:** Three whole updates in one day! I know, I know - totally spoiling you. ;-) If you're also reading _Ginnungagap, _I promise I did work on the next chapter today as well, it was a bit more difficult which is why there was no update.

This Edward is quite different from SM's Edward. He's a 22 year old college boy, who recently got out of a long term relationship and instantly drawn to Bella just as strongly as she is drawn to him. While we may know that Bella associates sex with self worth, _he_ doesn't know that. A lot of the angst that will come in this story actually occur during their relationship (albeit unknown to him, poor guy). I'm willing to wager there are times when you love Edward and when you hate Edward and when you just want to shake Edward, and I'm also willing to wager there are times when you'll just want to scream at Bella and may even been tempted to call her a few select names. That is totally okay and please share! To me, if you (the reader) has an emotional reaction to the story, that must mean you're becoming invested (if even just a tiny bit) in the characters.

I will also try to list warnings ahead of time for any hardcore angst coming. Thank you for reading my story and sticking with me during this rough ride. Reviews are better than a mini-foot massage from Edward. ;-)


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